Tonight
by Monny287
Summary: Keely's mother can't believe Phil just left Keely, alone and pregnant. But there's more than meets the eye. What happens when Phil returns?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Just a small plot bunny that nibbled at me while I was in Driver's Ed.

"I still can't believe he left you," Mandy Teslow gave the spaghetti sauce a mighty stir. She lowered the heat and put the cover on the pot before wiping the sweat from her brow and turning to look at her daughter.

"He didn't 'leave me'" Keely said, angrily ripping the lettuce she'd been crunching into smaller pieces and throwing it into the bowl. They were having this conversation. Again.

"Well, I ask you, is he here?" her mother turned to attend to the pasta, which had begun to rattle violently. "Dear, Phil is a grown boy and is capable of making his own decisions. No one forced him to leave. And him just up and taking off, leaving you in your condition," she gestured to her daughter's stomach, where a small being had begun to make it's appearance through the stretchy fabric of Keely's shirt. "Doesn't elicit sympathy from me! I can't believe you aren't more upset about this!" Mandy gave a small frown before turning back to the sauce. A few moments later, she slammed the spoon down on the counter, making Keely jump.

"Why won't you tell me what's going on?" her mother demanded. Keely was taken aback. This wasn't usually how this conversation went. Usually, her mother would rant and rave about Phil "moving" away and be done with it for the night. Maybe they'd rent a movie. Eat popcorn. But not this. This question had never arisen.

"Tell you what?" Keely asked, her heart pounding a little harder, both from the startle and because she didn't want to reveal more about Phil than was necessary.

"Keely, you used to tell me everything," her mother said in a slightly watery voice. "Now we barely even talk any more. It worries me that you're not talking to much of anyone anymore. Something about this thing with Phil just doesn't add up. Phil is a good boy; God knows he loved you to death," Keely blushed slightly, "It doesn't make sense that he would leave. There's something you're not telling me." Keely caught her breath.

"Now I want the truth and I want it now!" her mother slammed the spoon down on the counter, spraying red globs of spaghetti sauce on the smooth white linoleum. Keely wished she were the sauce on the counter. Her heart was beating so feircly she was afraid her mother could hear it across the room.

"He just move away, that's all," Keely lied. "His father got moved to a different hardware store out of state." Keely clutched at the necklace around her neck. What was held on the chain she could never show her mother; she'd never understand. Not to mention she'd be grounded until eternity.

"And that necklace!" her mother went on, obviously annoyed with her daughter. The steam from the boiling water had made her hair stick to her forehead and the other fly-away pieces more prominent, making her look slightly crazed. Her voice was bordering on hysterical. "All day, all night! It never comes off!" This was indeed a strange occurrence, as Keely was never one to wear a piece of jewelry more than once a week. "I want to know why. I'm tired of being left in the dark. I want the truth and I want it now!" As if to punctuate this last request, Mandy threw the spoon down on the counter, letting it skitter across the linoleum before coming to a stop a few feet from the edge. Keely was getting frightened now; her mother did not usually let loose with such emotion. She was more the "hold-it-in-and-then-hold-it-over-your-head-for-the-rest-of-your-known-life" type. Mandy took a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of control.

"I'm just tired of being out of the loop," she said, her voice a deathly calm. "Is it so wrong that I want to know what's going on in my daughter's life? I know Phil's leaving has affected you, and I want to be there for you. I want to be there for the baby when it comes. But I can't do that if you won't let me in." A few tears made their way down her cheeks. Keely didn't quite know what to say.

"I-I have to go," she said, getting up from the counter and making her way upstairs. Her eyes clouded up with so many tears that for a moment the stairs looked like large beige water droplets. A few fell onto the carpet, making the stairs look like large, spotted beige water droplets. Finally making it to her room, she shut the door and locked it, before sliding down to the ground and dissolving into large sobs. Large tears fell down her face, soaking the front of her shirt, and she gasped for breath until the baby decided enough was enough and Keely was overwhelmed with a sudden urge to retch up everything she'd eaten that day. She took a deep breath before walking on shaky legs over to her bed and collapsing onto it.

_"Keel, we're leaving tomorrow," Phil said miserably, looking down at his shoes as they stood on her front porch. His eyes were red and puffy from crying, and the words sounded forced. He gave a small sniffle before continuing. "We had some officials come. From the future. They said it's too risky staying here. That we'd mess up the time line, and we'd already stayed far beyond what is legal or necessary. They told us we had twenty-four hours to pack up before they come to pick us up." He shuffled his sneakers on the worn wood of the porch as the moths circled the light. Keely was in shock. But she should have known. It was eleven-thirty at night, for goodness sakes! She saw her mother spying on them out of the corner of her eye, trying to subtly pull back the living room drapes to peek out. _

_"But—" Keely didn't know what to say. What do you say when you find out your boyfriend is going back to his own time? It's not something people write in to advice columns about. "I need to sit down." She sank down onto the wooden steps, leaning forward so that her elbows rested on her knees and her head in her hands. Phil sat down next to her, his expression stony. They sat there in silence for a few moments, the only sound coming from crickets hiding in the dark lawn and the buzzing of insects surrounding the porch light. _

_"I wish I didn't have to go," Phil said, breaking through the night sounds. "I wish it were a false alarm like last time, like all the other times."_

_"How do you know it's not?"_

_"Because they said either we go with them, or we die,"_

_"Die?!"_

_"So we don't do any damage to the space-time continuum," Phil kicked a pebble off of the step his foot was resting on. It rattled down to the sidewalk and stopped. _

_"I don't know what to say, Phil," Keely said. "Part of me wants you to stay here at whatever cost. But I can't stop you from living your life. 2121 is where you belong. And you should be there." Keely choked out the last part, drowning half of it with a soft sob. Phil took one of her hands in his. _

_"Keely, this is my life now. You're my life now," Phil said, his voice getting a little watery as he went on. "I've exhausted my mind trying to come up with a way to stay. I tried telling them I wasn't leaving, but all I received was a slap in the face and a warning to respect government officials." Keely looked at him. The side of his face sported a hefty red mark. The guy who hit him must have some power behind his punch. She reached up to stroke his injured cheek. He leaned into her touch and closed his eyes. _

_"You have to know I wouldn't leave unless I was forced," he said after a moment, tracing small circles on the palm of her hand. He took a deep breath before continuing. "Keels, I've been thinking." _

_"Yeah?"_

_"I love you,"_

_"I love you, too," _

_"Aack, that's not what I've been thinking, though. I mean, that was part of it, but.." Phil trailed off before reaching into his jacket pocket. His eyes flitted to the window, where Keely's mother had given up spying. On the lawn, Keely could see the long shadow cast by her bedroom light. Phil looked back to Keely and pulled out a small box. Flipping it open, he revealed a small ring. _

_"Like, I said, I've been thinking," he whispered, barely audible over the crickets on the lawn. "I've been thinking we should make our relationship permanent. Before I leave tomorrow. Will you marry me?" For the second time tonight, Keely was speechless. Again, this was not the kind of thing you can learn about from a person or a book. But her mind was telling her to go with her heart. And her heart was shaking her by the shoulders, practically screaming at her to say yes. To be Phil's forever. Even if just for a few hours. _

_"Yes," she whispered, nodding with tears in her eyes. Phil's face turned from melancholy to joyful in an instant and he slid the ring onto her finger and kissed her. For a moment, they both could forget that in a few short hours, one half of the duo would be gone forever. For a moment they could be what they should be—a happy, affianced couple. Taking her hand again, Phil pulled her up. _

_"Come on, let's go," he said, nodding in the direction of his car, which lay dark and ominous in the driveway. _

_"Wait, what am I supposed to tell my mom?" Keely glanced back at the house. "I can't tell her I'm getting married. She'd lock me in my room until the end of time."_

_"Tell her you're staying over at my house tonight," he said. "You've done it a million times before." Keely nodded, went in to tell her mother, and sped away with Phil towards a life of matrimony._

Keely hugged a pillow as she lay on her bed. Her face felt scrunched up and tight from crying. Why did her mother have to make it worse than it already was? Phil wasn't around to see the birth of his—no, the birth of their child. He wasn't around to watch the baby grow up. Keely felt a gaping whole in her heart that ached as though she'd been punched in the chest. She looked at the clock. It was only seven-thirty. Too late to hang out with friends, but too early to go to bed. What an awful time. Her fingers were drawn to the cord around her neck. The cool metal of the wedding band held on the chain felt smooth and soothing between her fingers, and she soon fell asleep, lulled to sleep by the gentle tick-tock-ing of her alarm clock on her bedside table.

**A/N: What do you think? Continue? Scrap? Please, read and review!**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Another chapter up! Hope you guys like it as much as the first. Please read and review!

"Gibbons, get in here!" came the gruff shout of a middle-aged man in an official-looking uniform. He was definitely not a man to be crossed. He stood, military-style, with his feet spread apart and his hands behind his back, looking at a translucent screen projected on the wall in front of him. He barely flinched as a young man, barely older than thirty, with a wiry build and wire-rimmed glasses came dashing through the door.

"Y-yes, Commander Wright?" the man stuttered. He knew he was in trouble, and it took all he had to stand at attention instead of say, cowering under a desk. The wrath of Commander Enoch Wright was known all over the corporation, and when he used that rough bark of his, you knew you were in for it. Commander Wright picked up a pencil and twirled it in his hands, breaking his military stance to turn and look at the man who had just entered.

"Gibbons," he said, in a calm voice of someone very annoyed, "Remind me, what is your occupation here?" He looked down at the pencil in his hand, and not at Gibbons, who was standing a few feet away, looking nervously from the screen to Wright and back rapidly with his eyes.

"M-my occupation?" Gibbon squeaked.

"Yes, what is it we pay you for?" Wright asked again, his voice still a deadly calm.

"I'm a cyberneticist," Gibbons said, obviously confused.

"Not just any cyberneticist, are you, Gibbons?"

"No. I'm head of the Nexus division,"

"And that means what?"

"That I oversee the impact time travel has on the time line and how it interferes with the space/time continuum,"

"And you report it back to me,"

"Right," Gibbons had the sneaking suspicion he was about to get fired. For what yet, he didn't know. But this pretense surely did not bode well for his future at the corporation.

"Then, please, Gibbons, tell me how _this_ escaped your notice," Wright reached out and grabbed Gibbons by the collar of his shirt and shoved him in the direction of the hologram-screen projected on the wall. On the screen were four columns: one of names, one of date of birth, one of date of death, and one of date of disappearance. It was used mostly to indicate something was wrong with the timeline, and it was time to send officials to fix it. They usually had one to two cases per month; since Diffy's Law was passed, only researchers and government officials were permitted to time travel, therefore causing much less trouble. However, the readings were off the charts, with people anywhere from 2020 to 2110 disappearing at a rapid rate, with more coming in by the minute. Something was _seriously_ wrong. Gibbons went red in the face and did not respond.

"It _is_ your job to see how time travel affects this sort of thing, isn't it?" Wright asked. Gibbons, once again, did not respond. Wright suddenly dropped the pencil from his hand and slammed his fist down onto a nearby table, making the already-nervous Gibbons jump, and his heart pound rapidly within his chest.

"_Isn't it your job to catch these things and inform them to your supervisors so we can get this fixed?!"_ Wright thundered, a vein popping out of his forehead, and the blood rushing to his ears. Gibbons nearly collapsed to his knees as this outburst, and he instead fiddled with his glasses, hurriedly sputtering out an explanation.

"Dammit, Gibbons," Wright said after the man had stopped stuttering. "Do you know how much damage your carelessness has caused, and could cause? Do you know how badly we could ruin the lives of citizens today? Do you have any idea how much we could get sued because of you?" Gibbons didn't say anything, thinking it better just to keep his mouth shut.

"Do you know what all these people have in common?" Wright demanded, pointing with his index finger towards the screen with the list of names multiplying by the second. "Do you?"

"N-no sir," Gibbons said.

"Tell me, Gibbons, who were the last people, besides government officials and researchers, to return from a time-travel trip?"

"The Diffy's, sir," Gibbons said.

"That's right. And do you know what all these people have in common, Gibbons?"

"No, sir,"

"They're all related to Phillip Diffy,"

"All of them?"

"That's right," Wright sneered at Gibbons, resuming his military stance as Gibbons nearly wilted under his intense glare.

"But, that's impossible—"

"Is it?"

"Phillip Diffy was not reported to have any wife, any children when he left,"

"See, that's where you're wrong,"

"Wrong, sir?"

"Mr. Diffy was, in fact, married at the time he and his family were arrested and brought to the present."

"He was?"

"Yes, Gibbons, pay attention!" Wright barked. "Do you know what I found in my research of the Diffy family? A marriage certificate. Dated the day before they left for the present. And do you know who's name was on that certificate, besides Phillip Diffy's?"

"No, sir"  
"A Keely Teslow, resident of Pickford, and a twenty-first century citizen,"

"And they..."

"Yes. Exactly eight and a half months after the Diffy's departure from the twenty-first century, there is record of a birth. Phillip Diffy's child."

"But that doesn't explain the disappearances, sir. If Phillip Diffy only had one child, the time line should proceed as normal,"

"_Does this look normal to you, Gibbons?"_ Wright asked, once again gesturing at the screen, which had just added another name. "In the original time line, Phillip wasn't supposed to come back. It's not the first child who begets the disappearing line. It is Phillip and his wife's other children."

"O-other children, sir?"

"Oh, yes. In the original time line, Phillip had four children. It's the line that comes off of the other three that has the disappearances,"

"Oh," was all Gibbons had to say. He wished that Commander Wright would do something besides ask questions with obvious answers. It was making him nervous, and he did not do well with nervousness. He was surprised he hadn't fainted yet. "What are we to do then, sir?"

"What are _we_ to do?" Wright repeated, his voice angry. He laughed a laugh which held a rapier-sharp edge of cruelty. "_You_ aren't going to do anything. You're lucky I don't put you on suspension, or better yet, fire you for your carelessness. _I_ am going to fix the time line by sending Phillip back to the twenty-first century."

"But sir, it is strictly forbidden to send anyone who does not have ties with the government to a previous century, it's clearly stated in Diffy's Law—" Gibbons rambled on, playing with his glasses again.

"Gibbons, it is our job here to fix the timeline. If we don't send him back, we could alter the timeline severely. The time line could, if altered so severely, kick-start an apocalypse."

"But sir, we don't know that this incident will alter the timeline that badly—"

"Gibbons, look at the screen," Wright said, grabbing him by the front of the shirt and nearly pressing his nose against the wall. "Have you ever seen so many names on that list in your time working here?"

"N-no, sir,"

"Then I think it would be in our best interest to send Mr. Diffy back where he belongs, don't you?"

"Y-yes, sir,"

"How soon can we send him back?"

"I-I don't know, sir,"

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"We're still trying to recover other families from other time periods, and that is the main focus of our work here for the next two years,"

"So you're telling me that two years is the quickest we can fix this?"

"Yes, sir," Wright ground his teeth and swore under his breath. He may have control over much of the corporation, but even he didn't have that much control. The government still reined over him, and while he may be able to bend Diffy's Law for the sake of the time line, he knew he would get a big "No" if he asked for Phillip Diffy to be sent back immediately. The government had won great support with their "No Time Traveler Stranded" campaign, and it was in their best interest to recover _every_ time traveler in different centuries, time machine working or no. Two years was the best he could get.

"Fine," Wright said, letting go of Gibbons and taking a deep breath. He ran a hand across his military-issue buzz cut and looked at the screen. The names were multiplying rapidly. He could only hope two years was fast enough. He looked back at Gibbons.

"You're dismissed, Gibbons," he said at last, as the man scrambled to get out the door.

"Gibbons!" he shouted after the man.

"Yes, sir?"

"Make sure you watch that time line carefully, got it?" Wright barked. "I don't want a repeat of this with other time travelers, alright?"

"Yes, sir!" Gibbons said, and practically bolted out of the door and down the hall.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Two chapters in one day! This was originally part of the first chapter, but I decided to split it up after writing the second (if that makes any sense at all...it did in the moment.) Please read and review!

Keely awoke awhile later, with a raging headache and a nauseous feeling in her stomach. The obstetrician said the morning sickness should wear off eventually, and Keely couldn't wait. She couldn't eat much of anything lately; it seemed, without it coming back up. The nauseous feeling increased before she felt a violent upheaval in her stomach, and she dashed to the bathroom, making it just in time to retch up the lettuce she'd nibbled on earlier while making the salad.

"Ugh," she moaned, leaning back against the cool tile of the bathtub.

"Honey, are you okay?" her mother suddenly appeared in the doorway, looking rather frightening in her bathrobe, cold cream and frizzled hair. She looked concerned, flicking on the bathroom light and flooding the place in fluorescent brilliance. Keely managed a weak nod, before practically throwing herself over the toilet, her stomach turning itself inside out thanks to first trimester hormones. Her mother kneeled next to her on the bathmat, holding her hair back and muttering reassurances.

"This must be Phil's side of the family showing," her mother said when Keely was finally able to rest. "I never had any morning sickness with you. Although, I did have strange cravings. I remember a week where you wouldn't let me eat anything but chocolate chip cookies and artichoke dip." Keely made a face.

"Okay, maybe talking about food isn't the best thing to do right now," her mother said apologetically. Keely nodded in agreement. As much as she hated throwing up, she had to admit it made her feel better. She picked herself off the bathmat and hobbled over to the sink, taking the cup there and rinsing her mouth out. Her mother stood up with her, taking a brush from the counter and running it through Keely's hair. It had been a trick to calm her down as a child, and it reminded Keely of simpler days.

"I didn't mean to be so gruff earlier," her mother said suddenly, cutting through the silence that had engulfed them. "I shouldn't have demanded that you tell me everything. It's your business, and I shouldn't have tried to butt in. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Mom," Keely said, taking the towel hanging on the rack next to the sink and wiping her mouth. She had the urge to spill everything right then, but bit the words on the side of her mouth before they were able to make their way into the open air. She said her goodnights and headed back to bed. She snuggled under the covers and fell back sleep.

A few hours later, she awoke again, this time to the smell of pancakes and bacon, and surprisingly, she didn't feel sick to her stomach. Grabbing her bathrobe and pulling her hair back into a loose ponytail, she made her way downstairs. Her mother stood cheerfully at the stove, be-bopping to a pop song on the radio while efficiently, if not skillfully, flipping a pancake on the griddle. As Keely yawned and approached the kitchen door, her mother stopped dancing and looked at her, a wide smile on her face.

"Hey, honey!" she chirped, greeting her. "I was feeling a bit ambitious, so I decided to make some breakfast. Do you feel in the mood for some? Or is food not a good idea right now?"

"No, I think I'm okay," Keely said, plunking herself down on one of the barstools that lines the one side of the cooking island in the middle of the room and taking a sip of orange juice from the glass her mother had placed in front of her. Her mother eagerly gave her a plate piled high with food, it wasn't often that her mother would make breakfast, and even rarer these days that Keely could eat anything in the morning.

"So, no morning sickness this morning?" her mother asked, piling a plate high and sitting down across from Keely. Keely shook her head and took a hefty bite of pancake. She waited for a moment. Would it stay down? Yes, it would. She took another bit and contemplated her mother sitting across from her. She could feel the tension in the air from yesterday; her mother may be sorry she was so gruff, but the mother in her still wanted to know what was going on. For awhile, the only thing that could be heard was the clinking of silverware on porcelain.

"How's school?" came the generic question from her mother. Keely had been attending classes at a local college, to be close to her mother and to save money on room and board. She was still majoring in journalism, determined to be a working mother when the little one came.

"Fine," she said. It was like high school all over again. This wasn't like them. Usually her mother would be jabbering away about work, or baby things, or what the neighbors were doing. Silence at meal times was unusual. It didn't sit well. Silence meant something was wrong. After a few more minutes of stillness, Keely cracked.

"Okay, I'll tell you," she sighed, wiping her hands on her napkin nervously. Her mother looked at her in mock surprise.

"Tell me what?" she asked.

"You know perfectly well what," Keely said. "I'll tell you what's been going on, but you have to promise not to freak out or get mad or anything."

"Keely, I've already had to go through the ordeal of my teenage daughter telling me she was pregnant," her mother said matter-of-factly. "There's nothing much worse than that."

"You'd be surprised," she muttered under her breath. "You have to promise."

"Fine, I promise,"

"Okay then," Keely unclipped the necklace from around her neck, slid the ring off, and passed it slowly across the table to her mother. Her mother picked it up, and Keely could tell she wasn't quite sure what it was. However, when she brought it close to her face, Keely saw her expression change from curiosity to amazement.

"Is this what I think...it can't be...," her mother rambled on for a moment, looking back and forth between Keely and the ring, her face frozen in a perpetually shocked appearance. "You and Phil are..." Keely nodded.

"Oh, my God," her mother set the ring down on the counter and stared at it, as if by glaring at it she could make the situation, the news she just received, go away. She looked at Keely.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, not angry, but rather hurt that her daughter wouldn't share that bit of information with her.

"I wasn't sure how you'd react," Keely said, looking down at her hands.

"When?"

"The night before he left,"

"The night you said you were staying over at his house,"

"Yes,"

"Oh, my God," her mother said again, leaning back in her chair. "I don't know what to say. And to think I've been yelling at you for being pregnant out of wedlock." She chuckled at the irony, and Keely had the distinct impression that her mother was slightly in denial. Her mother pushed the ring back over to her, and Keely slipped it back onto the necklace. She used the necklace to hide the ring not only from her mother, but from everyone else as well. She didn't quite feel like sharing her secret with the rest of the world. She hadn't even wanted to share it with her mother, but she'd cracked under the pressure.

"Well, now you know," Keely said, fastening the clasp of the necklace behind her neck and fiddling with the ring on it. She bit her lip, waiting for her mother to say something. Yell at her. Ground her. Anything was better than that shocked stare.

"I-I don't know what to say," her mother said, looking at Keely with a new appreciation in her eyes. She kept looking from where the ring now lay, exposed over Keely's shirt rather than under it, to Keely's face and back. "I don't know whether to congratulate you or kill you."

"Now that was the reaction I was expecting," Keely said, taking another bite of food. After a few moments, her mother did the same. The rest of the morning and much of the afternoon was spent in silence.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Alright, don't get confused. The narrative goes in a Keely/Wright/Phil rotation for awhile. And for the record, Phil and Keely's experiences do not move in time respective to each other, if that makes sense. Anyway, another two chapter day, enjoy!

"Phil, don't you think you're overdoing it a bit?" Phil's mother asked tentatively as she poked her head out of the backdoor to address her son. Phil was drenched in sweat, rapidly throwing a laser-squash ball against the side of the house. He'd been playing for the last seven hours, something he'd been doing every day since they'd been back—which made a grand total of three weeks. He wasn't eating, he wasn't sleeping, and he wasn't resting. His mother could see that his shirt, which had fit him quite nicely a month ago, now hung off of his lean frame as though he were a scarecrow. The bags under his eyes made him look as though he had gotten into a bar fight the night before, and his pallid skin made him look like a zombie. Not the picture of health in the least. The boy in question did not reply, instead throwing the ball with a solid throw against the wall. His breath was ragged, and Barb was afraid he would drop of exhaustion any second if she didn't do something. She ventured to walk outside. Phil ignored her completely, making him seem more like the ghost he was becoming, and Barb shuddered. She grabbed his arm.

"Come on, Phil, let's go inside," she said, leading him gently towards the door. Phil still said nothing, but allowed himself to be walked inside and sat down at the kitchen table. He leaned back heavily in his chair while his mother bustled around him, handing him a bottle of water before throwing a clean shirt at him. Phil caught it at the last moment, his reflexes now super-charged.

"This moping around isn't healthy, Phil," his mother scolded, running a dusting cloth over the table. Old habits die hard, and Barb just couldn't seem to let go of the (admittedly) outdated twenty-first century habits she had become accustom to. Thankfully for the rest of the family, she'd given up on her cooking extravaganza, instead resorting back to spray food. Phil opened the bottle of water and took a deep drink, the ice-cold liquid tingling his parched throat before creating a cool sensation as it went down his esophagus.

"Well, look who finally decided to join the land of the living," Pim said as she walked into the room, pulling up a chair next to her brother and smirking at his misery. Phil glared at her, but said nothing.

"Listen, Phil, if you're so worried about it, why don't you look it up on the Giggle?" she asked, taking his bottle of water and taking a swig. Phil looked at her, the anger apparent in his eyes.

"Because that would be incredibly disrespectful," he growled, grabbing back his water.

"What does she care? She's dead," the words made Phil flinch. He shot death glares at his sister before leaving the table and walking into the kitchen. His mother was busy arranging a bouquet of silk flowers she had brought from the twenty first century. She fluffed them to perfection, gave them a satisfactory file, before turning her attention to her son, who had practically thrown himself onto one of the stools that had been placed in the kitchen for random purposes.

"Phil, I wish there was something I could do to help," she gave him a sympathetic smile and ruffled his hair. He twisted the t-shirt she'd given him in his hands before using it to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

"You were supposed to put that on, you know," she said, frowning a bit, gesturing to the shirt Phil held in his hands. When he did nothing, she sighed, forcibly pulling the shirt he was wearing over his head and jamming the other one back on. Phil leaned back against the counter, cold sweat dripping down the back of his neck. He went to wipe it away, and realized immediately something was wrong. He had almost forgotten the weight of the chain around his neck, but suddenly felt naked without it. His mother didn't notice, and turned to toss the shirt into the laundry hamper. As she did so, Phil closed his eyes and visibly winced at the characteristic _plink_ of metal on kitchen tile. Okay, so he hadn't told his parents where he was going the night before they left. He prayed to whatever god was out there that his mother hadn't noticed. He sat, frozen on the stool, not being able to move, hoping that if he didn't recognize the noise, she wouldn't either. Ten seconds later, his luck ran out. His mother scooped to pick up the necklace.

"Phil, honey, I think this is yours," she smiled jovially, looking at it. She went to hand it back to him, and then realized what exactly was on the chain. She snatched it away before he could grab hold of it, and brought it close to her face for examination. A look of shock ran over her face as she turned the ring over in her hands, her eyes widening as she found the inscription engraved on the inside of the band that read simply _Amo, ergo vivo_ along with the date the ceremony took place. Phil held his head in his hand, pinching the bridge of his nose while waiting for his mother to respond.

"Latin," his mother said a moment later. "Impressive, Phil." He saw tears glisten in her eyes, and she just stood there with her hand covering her mouth, letting the chain of the necklace dangle between her fingers. For the first time in his life, Phil saw his mother at a loss for words. He was waiting with baited breath to see her reaction when the news sunk in.

"Well," she said, breaking off with that one word. She handed the necklace back to Phil, who took it and lifted his over his head and adjusting it until it lay safely around his neck, the chain so long that the ring rested close to his breastbone, near his heart. Not that he had a problem with that. His mother turned away from him and suddenly busied herself wiping off the counter with a handy dishrag. After a moment, she whipped her head back to him.

"When were you going to tell me?" she asked him, and suddenly, Phil felt about five years old again, caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He sat on the stool, one leg crossed over the other, suddenly becoming very interested in the frayed hem of his blue jeans. "Did you think you could hide it forever?"

"I don't know," Phil honestly answered. The proposal had been a spur of the moment thing, with literally no time between decision, jewelry store, Keely's house, church. He hadn't really thought about what would happen afterwards, he just wanted the chance to do what he'd been planning on doing as soon as they'd started dating—marry her. This coming from the boy who, from the time he was five until he was fifteen, declared that women were too much work and that he would never fall in love. Obviously, opinions change. "I wasn't sure how you'd react."

"Phil, you're old enough to make your own decisions," his mother looked into the sink instead of at him. "While your father and I might have balked at first, in the end we would have respected that it was your decision." She spun her head to look at him. "I guess I'm just hurt that you wouldn't trust me with that kind of information. I knew how you felt about Keely—"

"Feel about Keely," Phil corrected. "Present tense."

"Right. I know how you feel about her, I would have thought that you would have told me about it,"

"It was kind of a quick thing,"

"I can tell," she gestured to the ring, whose inscription included the date the couple was married; the day before the family left. "Besides, my little boy is growing up, what mother wouldn't be sad?"

"Be sad about what?" his father walked in, complete in ridiculous (even for the time period) futuristic jumpsuit. He carried a small disk about the size and shape of a credit card. He held it up.

"Mail's in!" he said, apparently forgetting completely about his question. He threw it on the counter before going to give his wife a hug, pressing a small, round, red button in the center. Immediately, a holographic pink screen popped up, with the words _Addressee: Lloyd Diffy. Re: Electric Bill. _

"Lloyd! I asked you to pay that bill two weeks ago!" his wife put her hands on her hips in the traditional menacing-spouse stance, sending him a glare that could have killed a vampire. Her husband gave a nervous smile before sputtering a reply and pressing a gray, triangle-shaped button next to the red one. Another piece of mail popped up, this one an advertisement for a robot magazine. He pressed the button again, and this time a bright yellow notice with the words _Addressee: Phillip Diffy. Re: Diffy's Law and Implications. _It was flagged as "urgent", sent by a representative of the Nexus corporation.

"Something you're doing for a class, son?" his father asked, his expression confused. Phil had recently been taking university courses to fill up his time. Phil shook his head, and watched as the gray card gave a loud groan before spitting out a large packet of folded up paper in Phil's direction. He picked it up with curiosity and started to unfold it. It was an intricate process, as to emit that amount of paper from something the size of a credit card took skill. When he finally got the paper open, he scanned it quickly, before sneaking out of the kitchen while his parents were talking. This was definitely not the kind of paper he wanted to read in front of his parents. A bubble of hope had risen in his chest when he had initially scanned the paper, and despite his attempts to push it back down, it rose and rose, making him feel slightly punch-drunk and giddy. He dashed to his room and shut the door. He flopped onto his bed and opened the paper back up.

_Mr. Diffy,_

_The Nexus division of the Federal Bureau of Time Travel_ _is responsible for monitoring the impact time travel has on biological resources. In looking over our recent bizarre findings of disruptions to the time line, we have linked the strange happenings back to you, and your family. As a former time-traveler, you know what happens when the time line is disrupted. The proper course of action in this situation is to replace the missing piece of the equation, which we believe to be you. Therefore, we request your attendance at FBTT head-quarters tomorrow morning at eight o'clock. There, we will assess the situation and see what can and needs to be done. Directions to head-quarters are provided on the paper stapled to this one. Please take note this is not a voluntary venture—failure to comply with our request will result in your arrest and detention. _

_Arthur Gibbons_

_Head Cyberneticist, F.B.T.T._

Phil's eyes were a blur across the page, and the bubble of hope had grown into a balloon, and then a zeppelin, until he had the sudden urge to get up and dance around his room. An urge of adrenaline pushed him off his bed and down the stairs, taking them two at a time and nearly breaking his neck in the process.

"Phil, there's no need to stomp up and down the stairs," his mother said automatically, once again re-arranging her silk flowers. Phil barely registered it as a comment, and slapped the letter down on the counter, a wide grin on his face.

"I get to go back!" he said in an excited voice, feeling like a little kid at Christmas. He was rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, waiting for his parents to respond.

"What do you mean 'you get to go back'?" his mother picked up the letter and read it quickly. Her mouth dropped open in shock and she tapped her husband on the shoulder, who was busy washing his hands at the sink.

"Lloyd, honey, look at this," she handed the letter to him after he had dried his hands. He took the sheet of paper and scanned it with his eyes, his brow furrowing closer and closer together as he read.

"I don't believe this," he said, looking from the paper to Phil and back again. "We need to sort this out."

"So we're going tomorrow?" Phil asked, practically bouncing up and down. He was going back. He was going back. He could hardly believe it. He didn't care about the circumstances.

"Well, it seems we have to," his father looked down at the letter again, and then flipped to look at the paper with the directions on it.

"Yes!" Phil _did_ jump up, pumping his fist in the air. He dashed out of the kitchen to take a lap around the house, nearly knocking over Pim in the process.

"Okay, who else thinks he's finally lost it?" she jerked her thumb over her shoulder at her brother. She shook her head before they could answer, and made her way into the other room.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Sorry this one's so short. I couldn't post the other half of this without giving away too much of the story! Anyway, this part's kind of fluffy, so enjoy!

The tension felt at breakfast permeated itself like cigarette smoke into everything Keely and her mother did. They hardly talked any more, even less so than before the infamous dinner outburst. They still tolerated each other's company, but Keely had the feeling that any day she and her mother would be crushed under the weight of the quiet and strain felt in the vicinity. It eased as Keely got closer to her due date, and their time was spent folding baby clothes, making their guest room into a warm nursery, discussing pregnancy quirks and baby names. But in the back of her mother's mind, she knew, was the question _Why isn't Phil here? _Keely didn't have the heart to tell her that Phil knew nothing of the child that had become her entire world. Had no idea she was pregnant, and never would.

"He's beautiful, Keely," her mother said, as her daughter was propped up on stiff hospital bed pillows, cradling her child. Mandy started to tear up slightly as the baby gave a small yawn and opened his eyes, revealing two ocean blue orbs. "He looks just like you, you know."

"Really?" Keely didn't see it. At least, not much. When she looked at William (for that was the boy's name), the only thing she could see was Phil. His nose, his eyebrows, his chin. She was sure his eyes would eventually turn a dark brown, just like his father's. She suddenly felt an ache in her heart, an empty space right next to the one William had made immediately upon his entrance in the world. It throbbed like a raw wound, and she wished Phil could be here to see his son. Their son. She stroked the baby's thick brown hair gently, before tucking the soft blue blanket tighter around him and placing a kiss on his forehead. William gave a satisfactory sigh, closing his eyes and snuggling deeper into the blanket. Keely reached over to the table beside the bed and gently grabbed a music box, handing it to her mother to wind. Mandy did so cheerfully, soon hearing the familiar strains of the same lullaby that had rocked her daughter to sleep. It had taken months for her to get this music box, her first official gift to her grandson, poring over websites and scouring collectible stores before finding the song contained in a tiny silver box embossed with teddy bears. She placed the box back on the table, listening to the cheerful tinkling of the song, and gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm proud of you, honey," she said, looking at her and then down at William. "You did good."

"Thanks, Mom," Keely said softly, not wanting to wake the baby. She gave her mother a one-armed hug as thanks, and watched as she left the room to make telephone calls. When she was gone, Keely looked down at her son.

"Well, William, it's just you and me," she said, caressing the soft newborn skin of his arm. "And Grandma. I'm sorry you'll never get to meet your dad. When you're old enough, I'll tell you all about him." She looked around the room at the wide helium balloons proclaiming with confidence _It's a Boy!_ and _Congratulations! _, wondering briefly just how many friends her mother had, as most of them were from her mother's companions. She heard the last strains of the music box slow and then wane away, before placing William in the bassinet the nurse had placed by her bed, watching him settle and snuggle into the blanket wrapped around his tiny body, thumb in mouth. She smiled before drifting off to sleep herself.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Alright, another rather short chapter before the action starts to pick up. I wanted to put in the wedding scene, and so here it is. Enjoy!

"_Alright, we're here," Phil smiled widely at his new fiancé. He pulled his car into a perfect parallel park in front of a local church. It was one of the oldest in Pickford, and one could definitely tell. At least half of it was falling apart, with shingles blown off from hard rainstorms and the paint peeling. But to the couple, it looked perfect. _

_"How are we going to get a justice of the peace at eleven-thirty at night?" he heard Keely say on his left. _

_"Already set up,"_

_"You planned this,"_

_"Indeed, I did," _

_"A bit presumptuous, don't you think?" she teased. _

_"Nope," and that was all Phil would say on the subject. He climbed the concrete steps leading up to two large, medieval-looking wooden doors at the top, hearing his footsteps echo across the empty churchyard, melding with the sound of crickets chirping. He pulled on the large, round door handle, giving it a mighty tug. The door gave way with an ancient groan, and Phil and Keely walked hand in hand inside. _

_The inside of the church gave the impression of a morgue. It was dimly lit by a multitude of candles near the pulpit, casting ominous shadows over the pews and making strange shapes take form on the white-washed walls. The entire place was silent, and Phil felt almost as if he shouldn't be there. But then, he was. Flashing a wide grin at Keely, he led the way down the aisle, where a small man sat in the foremost pew. At the sound of footsteps, the man turned around. _

_"Ah, you must be Mr. Diffy," he said, standing up and shaking Phil's free hand. He was a jovial little fellow, rather short with a receding hairline and red cheeks. His demeanor was very warm, and made the couple feel welcome in the building. "And Ms. Teslow, I presume." He shook her hand as well before folding his hands over his rather large stomach. He smiled widely at them. _

_"So young," he mused, looking between them. He shook his head slightly before continuing. "Shall we get started?" They nodded. The man gestured in front of him to a door near the way right of the church. "This way, please." _

_The minister led the way into a small office located in the rear of the church. Unlike the rest of the building, it was simply decorated with white-washed walls, a desk that took up most of the room, and three chairs; one behind the desk, and two in front. The only signs that someone actually used the room was a potted fern sitting morosely on a wooden table in one corner, and the large crucifix on the wall behind the desk. A lamp on the desk provided a soft light, throwing shadows over everything else. A soft click indicated the small man had closed the doors behind them. _

_"I don't usually provide these types of services this late at night," he said, looking down at the watch on his wrist. "But the young man was so adamant about it, I felt I had no choice." Phil's cheeks blushed a bright crimson, and he cleared his throat loudly. _

_"Now then," the minister continued, putting on a pair of reading glasses and taking a book from a drawer built into the desk. "I presume you have all the correct paperwork?" Phil nodded and took a wad of papers from the pocket of his jacket. The pudgy man took them, looked them over, nodded and looked back up at them. _

_"Everything is in order," he said, standing up and moving around to the front of the desk. "Shall we get started?" Phil nodded and could feel a knot of butterflies release itself in his stomach, fluttering around so much he was tempted to down an entire roll of antacids right there. The man gave them both a smile before continuing. He cleared his throat, opened up his book to an ear-marked page, and began to speak. _

_"It is one of life's richest surprises when the accidental meeting of two life paths lead those who lead them onto the common path of marriage as husband and wife," he turned the page, took a deep breath, and continued. "__It is one of life's finest experiences when a casual relationship grows into a permanent bond of love. This meeting and this growth bring us together today. Phil, Keely, will you takes vows here before each other which symbolize the vows you have already made and continue to make as you continue your lives together?"_

_"We will," Phil and Keely said together. Phil gave a winsome grin before taking her hand and rubbing rhythmic circles onto the soft skin with his thumb. The minister gave Keely a piece of paper with loopy writing on it, instructing her to read the text out loud. Keely took it with her free hand and began to read. _

_"I, Keely Teslow, take you, Phillip Diffy, as my friend and love, beside me, and apart from me, in laughter and in tears, in conflict and tranquility, asking that you be none other than yourself, loving what I know of you, trusting what I do not yet know, in all the ways life may find us." She smiled brightly before handing the paper to Phil. These were not traditional wedding vows, that was for sure, but they seemed to oddly fit their relationship, and he liked them. _

_"Okay, Phil, your turn," the minister said, nodding to him. Phil took a deep breath and began. _

_"I, Phillip Diffy, take you, Keely Teslow, as my friend and love, beside me, and apart from me, in laughter and in tears, in conflict and tranquility, asking that you be none other than yourself, loving what I know of you, trusting what I do not yet know, in all the ways life may find us."_

_"The circle is the symbol of the sun, the earth, and the universe," the minister continued, taking the paper from Phil without breaking his gaze on the page and putting it behind him on the desk. "It is the symbol of peace. Let this ring be the symbol of unity and peace in which your two lives are joined in one unbroken circle. Wherever you go, return to each other and to your togetherness." Phil took out a pair of wedding bands from his other pocket, taking his in his hand and giving the other to Keely. _

_"__I give you this ring to wear upon your hand as a symbol of our unity in steadfast love." Phil happily slipped the smooth band onto Keely's left hand, hardly containing his ear-to-ear grin as he did so. _

_"I give you this ring to wear upon your hand as a symbol of our unity in steadfast love." Keely repeated the words and slipped the other band onto Phil's left hand. The minister smiled. _

_"You are mature people who have established individual patterns of living. Yet you have found not only a need for companionship, but the satisfaction of that need in each other's company. It is this love, based upon a responsible understanding, that will aid you in creating out of your two lives, a marriage and a happiness you will share together. Stand fast in hope and confidence, believing in yourself and believing in each other. It is my pleasure to have been here to see the joining of you two in bonds of matrimony, and is my privilege to let you out into the world as man and wife. You may now kiss your bride."_

_"Happily," Phil said, tugging her to him and capturing his lips with hers. _Phil woke with a start, nearly falling off of his bed in the process. He'd been dreaming about their wedding day. Again. For the fifth time in five days. Six if you count the short nap he'd taken in the backyard the other day. He shook his head and looked at the clock. The bright red projection flashed 3:00 in the morning. _Five more hours,_ he thought. _Five more hours._ Phil scrubbed his face with his hands and rolled back over, tugging a blanket over his body and face.

"Dad, wake up," Phil crept up to his father's side of his parent's bed. He gently prodded the sleeping (and snoring) man. His father gave a distorted snore somewhere between a groan and a snore, and turned over in his sleep. Phil rolled his eyes before poking him again. His father opened one bleary eye, giving another groan and burying his face in the pillow.

"Phil, it's five-thirty in the morning," he grumbled sleepily, waving him away with a pin-stripe pajama-ed arm. "Our appointment isn't until eight."

"Which means you have to get up and get ready so we can leave at seven-thirty," he insisted, pulling on the arm that was trying to banish him from the room. "You know how long it takes you to get ready."

"We're in the future now. We have technology that makes things quicker!"

"But that also means that at seven, when your alarm goes off, you'll hit the snooze a few dozen times before getting out of bed. Come on, let's go!" Phil pushed at his father's shoulder. He suddenly realized that his mother must be a very heavy sleeper. She was still sound asleep, snuggled into her pillow peacefully. His father threw Phil an annoyed look before angrily throwing the covers off and swinging his legs around the side. Blindly he found his slippers, and using his son as support, stood up.

"I know you're anxious, son, but next time, be anxious in the waking hours, okay?" he said, patting Phil on the back In truth, Phil hadn't slept at all since waking up at three, instead hovered over the letter, reading and re-reading it until the words were branded in his mind. He could recite the letter on cue, not needing any prompts. Despite his lack of sleep, Phil was wide-awake, every inch of him buzzing with a certain electricity. As it was, just waiting for his father to get out of bed, he was tapping his foot on the ground and drumming his fingers on the night table next to the bed. His father gave him a look that gave Phil the impression that he was surprised Phil didn't lift up and fly without the aid of any technology. Phil was like a bird tethered to a tree, trying to break free of its restraints yet bound mercilessly.

"Come on, let's go!" Phil said urgently. His father scrubbed his face with his hands, trying to wake up. His son rolled his eyes impatiently. Throwing Phil a glare, his father sleepily made his way into the bathroom, showering, shaving and brushing his teeth in what would be record time for him. After tossing what looked like a child's hula hoop over his head, and clothing himself in (still ridiculous) a gray futuristic jumpsuit, he took Phil by the shoulder and led him out of the room.

"Alright, I'm up," he said irritably, leading his son down the stairs of their house and into the backyard. He threw his son the laser squash equipment. "I'm going to beat you so bad for waking me up so early." Phil gave a small smile before slipping the pad over his hand and generating the glowing ball.

"I don't think so, Dad," he said, lobbing it at the side of the house. The intense physical demands of playing laser squash was temporarily able to take Keely off his mind, as well as the meeting they had in about three hours. He smiled as his father did his best attempts at trying to keep up with him.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Okay, another update after a horrendous case of writer's block! To reward all of my loyal readers, this will be at least a two chapter post. Please enjoy, and if you read all the way through, click on that little button down on the bottom left hand corner of the screen. The one that says "Review".

"The Diffy's shall be arriving soon, sir," Gibbons said from the doorway. Commander Wright was pondering over the holographic screen again, and his brow was furrowed in a worried expression. He didn't like the rate of disappearances. It had increased, the meter at the bottom of the screen indicated in bright red text, by thirty percent. If he wasn't careful, there would be no Diffy's left by the time they sent Mr. Diffy back to the twenty-first century. Erasing three entire branches of a family tree could have disastrous results on the time-line. It was like a nuclear bomb, ready to detonate and destroy the world at a moment's notice if it wasn't properly defused. Commander Wright tapped his foot on the ground.

"Sir?" Gibbons said tentatively, thinking perhaps the commander hadn't heard him. Commander Wright tore his eyes away from the screen and looked at Gibbons, as if he hadn't realized he was there, and had been standing there for the last five minutes.

"Yes, Gibbons?"

"We've received word that Mr. Diffy and his father are on their way," Gibbons said. Commander Wright nodded.

"Good, good," he muttered, turning back to the screen. Another name popped up, and then another, and then another. The dates were getting closer and closer to their own time, and no doubt that would cause a lot of rifts in the community. He paced in front of the screen, looking at his watch every now and then.

"Commander Wright?" an unrecognizable voice called tentatively from the doorway. Wright turned to find a middle-aged man in a jumpsuit standing just outside the room, looking at the technology in awe, and a younger man standing next to him. The younger looked as though he hadn't slept in days, though his demeanor told otherwise. Wright briefly wondered if he should have padded the room before inviting the Diffy's. The boy was about to fly apart at the seams at any moment. It was he who had addressed him.

"Commander Wright?" he repeated. Wright waved them in, and the boy happily acquiesced, pulling the older man by the sleeve into the room.

"Mr. Diffy," Commander Wright said. "Please sit down." He gestured to a couple of chairs in front of his desk, which was set up to the far right of the room. Both quickly sat down. The younger Diffy fiddled with his fingers anxiously and bit his lip, waiting for the Commander to respond.

"Mr. Diffy," both men looked pointedly at him. "Phillip. I've called you down here, as it said in the notice we sent you, because of a matter of international security."

"International security?"

"Yes. The time line was disrupted when you arrived back in this century. Disappearences have been happening in the years between your departure and the present. Usually, this is a routine occurrence. A person here or there goes missing, and normally the disappearances are not related." Commander Wright brought up the list of missing people that had been lengthening since he looked at it ten minutes ago. The hologram was projected behind his desk, and he moved to the one side of the screen to explain.

"_This_, however, is not normal," he gestured to the long list of names. "This started about a day after you returned to the present."

"But what's this got to do with me and my parents?" Phil asked, bemused.

"Not your parents, Mr. Diffy, just you,"

"Okay, just me then," Phil was even more confused now than he had been a moment ago.

"Mr. Diffy, you are married, are you not?"

"Of course I am," Lloyd answered, shooting a strange look at his son. "Phil wouldn't be here if I wasn't."

"Not you," Commander Wright pointed to Phil. "_Him."_

"Married? Phil?" Lloyd said, disbelievingly. "Of course not! He's just a kid. How or why in the world would he get married?" Phil fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat. Commander Wright's eyebrow shot up, giving him an inquisitive look.

"Come on, Phil," his father nudged him in the arm with his elbow. "Tell him how ridiculous that is." He turned back to the commander. "I _thought_ you had the wrong guy, now I'm sure of it."

"Dad," Phil cut in, silencing him. He pulled out the necklace from beneath his shirt to show Wright. "Yes, I am."

"I thought so," Commander Wright gave a wide smile. "Then I assume you've figured out who the oldest disapearences are."

"Our children," Phil said in breathlessly, staring at the screen. "Mine...and Keely's." He gaped, open mouthed for a moment.

"Precisely," Commander Wright looked at the older Diffy, who was looking at his son as if he'd seen him for the first time. He picked up a pencil and twirled it in his fingers. "Phil, would you like to be able to see your wife again?"

"Y-yes," Phil faltered, barely able to get the words out for his excitement.

"That's good, because you're going to be able to," Commander Wright braced himself for the boy to spontaneously combust. "The time line must be corrected. A disruption this much could set a chain of events that could cause the next apocalypse. Therefore, we're not only asking you to leave, we're _ordering_ you to leave."

"When?" was the only word Phil could choke out. He fiddled with the ring around his neck, as if by grasping it tightly it would transport him across a hundred and ten years or so.

"Well, that's the problem," Commander Wright grimaced, not exactly eager to burst the boy's bubble so quickly. Despite the rumors around the office, he _did_ have emotions. "Because of the government's 'No Time Traveler Stranded' program, it's mandatory to bring all time travelers back to the present. The program has a two year lifespan, in which the government plans to bring everyone back. Until then, all time travel recreational vehicles that were not destroyed in the raid are being used for that, and therefore not available to us."

"Two years?" Phil could hardly believe it. He expected to be angry, but felt relieved that at least he _was_ going back, unlike before. He could wait two years. He hoped.

"Yes, unfortunately," Wright turned back to the screen. "We can only hope that the timeline doesn't commit suicide before that time." Another name popped up, this one in the later part of the twenty-first century.

"Suicide?" the word sounded so...awful.

"With the so many people disappearing at one time, not only are families disrupted, but whole entire species. For example, if a person invented a vaccine for a world wide epidemic suddenly vanished, the epidemic could wipe out half the population of the earth. But that's not the worst of it.

"Time is always seeking to correct itself, Mr. Diffy. Always. It doesn't like it when people go missing, or something is out of the ordinary. However, time does not have the power to correct it simply by bringing back the element that disrupted it. In this case, that would be you. Instead, it compensates by correcting the population. Without you and your wife having those other children, their families, technically, do not exist.

"When Time is unable to correct it simply by altering a few lives, and the small equation turns into a complicated problem, it gives up. When Time gives up, that means it halts. The world and it's inhabitants cannot live in a world where time does not exist, for Time makes the plants and animals grow for sustanence, and humans grow as well. It also makes all of the chemical reactions in our body. Time is the catalyst of all things, and take away the catalyst of a reaction, you have no reaction at all.

"Time travel, as it works in the present, is dependant on a wormhole discovered by the third Hubble space probe sent out in 2098. Wormholes are rather like a tube, with at least two mouths connected to a throat. The wormhole we found contained several different mouths connected to a central throat. Got it? I know it's confusing. Each mouth connected to a different time period. For some reason, they all end in three..." Commander Wright stopped for a moment to ponder this, before realizing he hadn't finished his explanation as to why they had to get Phillip back to the twenty first century as soon as possible.

"Sorry. Wormholes are very unstable things. We've lost tons of men in our research lab because trying to go through one or two of the mouths cased a slightly bad reaction. Now, in this case, the disappearance of quite a few individuals has caused the wormhole to fluctuate badly. The 'No Time Traveler Stranded' campaign might not actually come to be if we don't send you back. When something in history changes, the mouth to that time period closes. Since our problem spans over quite a few time periods, many mouths of the wormhole have closed. This has caused the wormhole to become unstable. Because of the wormhole's size and proximity to our solar system and several neighboring ones, to cause it to become unstable signs our death warrant. When too many of the mouths close, the entire thing collapses, causing first a supernova, which eventually turns into a black hole. Both of which spell trouble for the human race.

"My job is to fix it before that happens. Which means we practically have to kick you out of your birth century, because of the implications of the situation. Two years, we hope, will be a short enough time to get the time travelers who have been proven to have no impact on history back to the present. As soon as a time machine is procured, you're gone. Did you get all that?" Phil nodded.

"So, two years," he repeated. The Commander nodded. He put down the pencil he'd been fiddling with.

"As a result, we'll be sending you back two years after you left. Any questions?"

"I guess not,"

"Good. When we procure a time machine, or something comes up, we'll be in touch," he led the Diffy's to the door, and scooted them out. He had the nagging feeling he was forgetting something, but couldn't remember what.

"Commander?" Gibbons asked from the other side of the room. Wright had forgotten he'd been there, checking the backgrounds on each new inductee to the infamous missing persons list.

"Yes, Gibbons?" the commander took a small bottle from his pocket, flipped off the top, and popped two cherry-flavored antacids into his mouth. He made a grimace as he chewed; no matter what the label said, they did not taste like cherries. All this stress was giving him an ulcer, or at least he thought so. He never went anywhere without antacids anymore. He turned towards Gibbons.

"Sir, you said we're sending him back two years after he left,"

"So I did, Gibbons. What's the problem?"

"His first child was born eight months after he left. That means when he goes back, his son will already be there,"

"And?"

"Don't you think we should prepare him for that?"

"We can't tell him anything, Gibbons. We've screwed up enough over the past two months. I don't want to screw up any more. Telling him could alter something. We're hanging by a thread as it is. He'll have to find out the hard way."

"But sir—"

"No, Gibbons. Now get back to work,"

**A/N: Okay, I have no idea if that makes any sense. It made sense to me when I wrote it, but to you folks, I'm not sure. If you were confused, I'll be happy to answer any questions! And, just prolong things; we'll have one more chapter of filler before Phil comes back. But it will be cute, I promise. **


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Ah, yes, another chapter for you loyal readers, you! Sorry for the slow update, writer's block kills! This one's kind of short, but bare with me. I think the rotation of narration has gotten a bit skewed. Oh, well. Doesn't change the plot, does it? Please enjoy, and read and review!

Bringing William home from the hospital had been no easy task. What she had wanted was a peaceful homecoming, with her being able to give the baby a tour of the house and showing him his nursery. What she got was her mother saying "Keely, let me take him, you look tired," every five minutes with intermitted phrases like "Oh, he's probably hungry" or "He's probably wet," every single time the baby would mutter a single peep.

Finally, at around eight in the evening, her mother went to bed, leaving her to take care of her precious newborn in peace. He was currently snuggled deep into her arms as the two sat in the rocking chair that had originally been in the nursery, but had been moved into Keely's room for the first few weeks.

She couldn't believe how tiny he was, yet so perfect. The newborn clothes she had received at the shower were even too big for him; the sleeper he was wearing had to have its arms rolled up at least twice. He hadn't taken to a pacifier, instead preferring to wrap his tiny fingers around one of hers as a security object. His soft, down hair wafted in the small breeze every time she rocked the chair softly with the balls of her feet. A song she had heard when she was a child sprang to her lips, and she began to sing it to him. She watched his bright blue eyes register surprise for a moment at the sudden interruption of silence, but begin to droop as she reached the second verse of the song. His eyes struggled to stay open, not wanting to miss a second of this new world he'd been thrust into, but Keely saw exhaustion eventually win out, and as the last strains of the song fell from her lips, the baby was breathing slow and evenly, obviously asleep.

Keely smiled, and lifted herself slowly from the chair, making sure not to disturb her son's rest. She padded over to the handsome cradle Via had given her as a shower present. It was a deep oak color, with etchings on the head and footboard of attractive floral designs. She had found it while visiting her relatives in England, and said it caught her eye in a shop window. It was now outfitted with handsome contrasting light and blue sheets, bumper, and quilt, a cozy haven for any newborn to rest his head. Keely lowered William into it, putting a foot under one of the rockers so as to keep it still while she tucked him in. William hardly noticed the change of surroundings, now uncurling and stretching out completely across the cradle. The welcoming navy and light blue quilt Keely's aunt had made for the baby was draped across him, folded at the top around his chest and tucked in tightly where the bumper met the mattress. William gave that satisfied sigh that had become his signature sound over the past few days, and Keely moved back a few inches, giving the cradle a soft push after putting a teddy bear at the foot of it. A slight snore was heard from the baby, and it took all she had not to burst out laughing.

She flicked off the overhead light, trading the harsh fluorescent glow for a softer one; the lamp on her desk would do. She sat down in the not-so-padded chair and pulled something towards her. She recognized it immediately, and felt a pang of guilt when she realized she had been seriously neglecting it. William's baby book. She was neglecting it so badly that it wasn't even filled out. She had saved ultra-sound photos and other such memorabilia to put in said book, but had not yet had the chance to do it. She decided now was as good a time as any, and flipped open the book somewhere in the first ten pages.

She worked for a good ten minutes, actually having fun pasting the pictures of William in utero onto the glossy pages. She had written down her reaction to her pregnancy the moment she found out (which had been something like "Oh, my" in more colorful words. However, "Oh, my" was what she wrote). She included pictures of the baby shower, and the pictures she had taken at the hospital. After going about as far as she could go, she flipped back to the beginning to see what she had missed.

Her heart sank at the page she had turned to. She knew every baby book had them, but had been avoiding it for ages. The "About Mommy and Daddy" page. It was easy to fill in her part. What her name was, where she grew up, if she had any siblings, etc. However, her pen remained poised in the air over the area where she was supposed be putting down Phil's background. The tear in her heart opened just a little bit more as she looked behind her to the sleeping child in the cradle. Another small snore was emitted, and she sighed, turning back to the baby book. She picked up her pen, and began to write.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Yet another short chapter from me. But, the next one will be longer! And posted in the same day! Shock and awe, I know. Please read and review! Come on! I'm posting four chapters today!

It took close to three years for them to procure a time machine. Phil had been crossing out days on a calendar for two and a half years; two and a half calendars had suffered the wrath of the fateful red pen, crossing out each agonizing day he had to wait with two final red strokes. And now, finally, that day was here. An excited energy buzzed in his veins as he woke up that morning, early as usual. He felt ready to run a marathon, though he'd only slept probably about three hours cumulatively.

"Mr. Diffy, it's a pleasure to see you again," Commander Wright extended a rough hand in front of Phil as he entered the building. He looked older than the last time Phil had seen him, and older than three years of time could produce. When they had met, Commander Wright had been a formidable man with a buzz-cut that was graying from its original black color. Now, that hair was completely gray, with patches of white, and there were more worry lines around his mouth and his forehead. He looked tired, as though he'd done far too much worrying than a man his age should have. The hand remained extended, and Phil shook it cordially.

"Same to you, Commander Wright," he said, hoisting the duffel bag that held his clothes and worldly possessions. As a result of the time line having to be fixed, no anachronisms, or things that were out of time period, were allowed. Therefore, Phil had to reluctantly forego his future technology, though he didn't mind so much. He was going back. He'd dreamed of it over and over and over again for the past two years. It would be late at night when he arrived; he'd knock on her door. She'd answer, and he'd sweep her into a soulful embrace. At least that's how he had imagined it.

"Step this way, please, Mr. Diffy," a smaller gentleman, a stick-thin man with round glasses gestured to where a hover car bearing the government's seal on the sleek black door was waiting in the dark, early morning starlight. Phil wouldn't have even been able to see it if it hadn't been for bright fluorescent lights that lit up the city at night. Phil nodded, and heard a sniff behind him. He'd almost forgotten his family was here. He turned around, to find his mother in tears clutching a hanker chief decorated with pink polka dots, his father putting a consoling hand on her shoulder, and trying hard not to cry himself. Even Pim looked a little sad at the prospect of her brother leaving.

"I'm so happy for you," his mother sobbed into her hanker chief, pulling him into a tight hug, a hug that told him that she was happy that he would be happy in a matter of hours, but not happy he was leaving. Phil felt her arms tighten around his shoulders so much he was sure they would snap from the pressure, before she placed a kiss to the top of his head and let go with a whisper of "Take care of yourself, okay?"

His father was next, who clapped him on the shoulder and pulled him in for a quick hug, pounding him soundly on the back, while trying to stop the tears rolling down his face. Phil then turned to Pim, and went to hug her.

"Hey, I won't miss you _that_ much!" she protested, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him away. "But hey, you take care of yourself, alright?" Phil nodded and hoisted the duffel bag over his shoulder again. With one last final wave goodbye, he exited the clear glass double doors, and climbed into the back of the black hover car.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Alright, I've put it off long enough. The story of Phil's homecoming, brought directly to you via your computer screen. Read and review, please.

The next two years left no room for unavoidable questions nor awkward tension, though neither Mandy or Keely could tell. Their schedule revolved around feedings, diaper changes, burps, and bedtimes. Keely found that motherhood, while challenging, was a welcome responsibility, and for what William was lacking in a father figure, his mother and grandmother made up for with giggles, tickles and songs. He grew up happy and healthy, despite Keely's constant calling to the pediatrician (who knew her by voice) and common childhood illnesses. For two years, Keely felt almost whole without Phil in her life. The aching that had made itself present upon William's birth had reduced itself to a dull throb, and as much as she wished Phil were there, she was sure that in time, the pain would recede. As it turned out, she didn't have to wait long for one of those wishes to come true.

"Come on, William, time for a bath!" Keely said in an overly-excited voice, trying to coax her two-year-old son into the waiting tub, filled almost to the brim with fluffy bath bubbles and tub toys. William stood in the doorway stubbornly, his little arms crossed and his brow furrowed into a scowl. Keely had to bite her tongue to keep from giggling at the adorable sight. He looked like a bouncer for a toddler club, really. Keely looked at him, and sighed. It was getting harder and harder to hide from people who William's father was, as each day the boy started to look more like him. Via had already recognized it, and even Owen was beginning to draw his own conclusions. If she hadn't given birth to him, at times Keely would have thought William was Phil's clone. Everything that had reminded her of Phil when William was a newborn had only become more prominent, and other aspects followed. His eyes, as Keely had suspected, had changed abruptly one week from generic blue to a deep brown, giving the baby warmth she didn't know infants could posses. His stance was all Phil, she had realized one day when he was standing in the kitchen, looking at her with his hands in the pockets of his little jeans. She dreaded the day someone came up to her in the grocery store and recognized William as Phil's son. She dreaded even more when William would come home from school or the playground one evening and pose the question 'Where's my daddy?' to her over dinner or before bed.

"You love the bath!" she said again, hoping her excited tone would get William excited about it. "See? All your toys are in there!" She pointed over his shoulder at the brightly colored plastic cooking utensils and undersea creatures that filled the bathtub. "Don't you want to go play with your toys?" William looked up at her, with a _You've got to be kidding me,_ face. Keely sighed again before plucking him from where he stood in the doorway and carrying him, kicking and screaming, over to the bathtub. Quickly pulling off his shirt, jeans and other clothes, she plopped him into the abyss of bubbles and bath toys before he even had time to work up a good glare. William seemed surprised to find that he was in the bathtub, and the previous struggle forgotten, gleefully reached for a purple rubber duck and blue tugboat, soon lost in pretend games of his own.

"Okay, there has got to be a better way to get you to take a bath," she muttered, picking up a washcloth and scrubbing his face while he splashed happily in the tub. He looked up at her and grinned wildly, handing her his rubber duck before reaching for another toy.

"Thanks," she chuckled, placing it back in the water, "I think he'd be happier here with you, though." William nodded at her reasoning, and grabbed the duck again. Keely rolled her eyes, smiling, before attacking his hair with baby shampoo. Right in the middle of the rinsing ritual of shampooing, she heard the doorbell ring. She barely gave it a moment's thought, as trying to concentrate on too many things while holding a squirming toddler and trying to rinse out shampoo without it getting into said toddler's eyes is very challenging.

"I'll get it, honey," her mother said cheerfully, stopping by the bathroom door to hand Keely a clean bath towel, then heading towards the door. Keely thanked her mother, turning towards William, who was craning his neck, trying to see out the bathroom door, trying to discern who it was who came to visit at this time of night. Never mind that the front door was downstairs.

"Alright, buddy, are you ready to get out?" Keely asked, holding out the towel. William nodded his head and lifted his arms to be taken out of the tub. Keely did so gladly, and placed him on the bathmat. Taking another towel to dry his hair, she flopped it over his head and moved it around over his hair, making small, muffled giggles come from the boy underneath. Keely smiled and softly chuckled, deciding there was nothing better in the world than baby giggles. Whipping the towel back playfully, she saw that William was laughing so hard he could hardly stand. Laughing with him, she gathered his dirty clothes and took his hand, leading him down to his bedroom, making sure he didn't trip on the large bath towel as he went.

"Honey?" she heard her mother call from downstairs.

"Yeah, Mom?" she asked, rifling through William's dresser drawers for a pair of pajamas. William sat cross legged in the middle of the room, watching his mother.

"You've got a visitor,"

"Send them up," Keely assumed it was either Via or Owen, both of whom had no problem with being in the same room as William while he was being changed. Though what Owen or Via would be doing calling on her at this time of night she had no idea; they usually kept their visits to the afternoon, as not to interrupt the baby's bedtime routine. There had been many a night Keely would stay up with William after Owen would get him riled up, or Via would ring the doorbell at nine o'clock at night. She shook her head and got out a (surprisingly) matching pair of airplane pajamas for William.

"Are you sure?" her mother asked. She sounded kind of unsure.

"Yes, Mom," she said, lifting William onto the changing table and putting a diaper on him before slathering his arms and front with sweet-smelling baby lotion.

"Okay," she heard her mother say. Keely heard footsteps come up the stairs, her mother's and someone else's she couldn't quite place.

"Arms up," she told William, taking the top and tugging it down over his head. He brushed his hair out of his face when she was done, and then turned his head towards the door. She looked in the same direction, and immediately had to grab the rail of the changing table to keep from fainting.

"Hey Keels," the stranger said. She knew that voice, that smile, that hair, those eyes.

"Phil?" she whispered, so quietly that at first she wasn't sure whether she had thought it or spoken it. She had the urge to either run sobbing into his arms or flee the country. Right now, the two were battling inside her, while she stood there, open-mouthed and shocked.

**A/N: Ooh, evil cliffhanger! Sorry about that. Okay, not really. So, how does Phil react to the fact that he has a toddler son? And how does Keely react to Phil being back? And how does William react to all of this? Find out in the next chapter! Which I promise will be up sooner than this one! **


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **

**A/N: Another chapter for you Pheely lovers! Fluff alert, so beware. Sorry it's been so long, and now that school's started, I might not have as much time to write as I'd like to. But I'll try my best. Please read and review!**

He gave a winsome smile and a nod before replying.

"Surprised?" he said, sticking his hands in his pockets and leaning against the doorframe. William was tugging on her sleeve to be let down, but she hardly felt it. She was too busy gaping open-mouthed at the man in the doorway.

"Mommy!" William said at last, calling Keely's attention to the little boy sitting, frustrated, on the changing table. Keely looked at him, and noticed out of the corner of her eye that Phil did, too. William gave her a very annoyed look before exasperatingly holding out his chubby little hands to be let down. She lifted him up and placed him on the ground, not looking at his father, instead watching as the two-year-old attempted to put on his pajama bottoms by himself. After several attempts to put both legs in the same hole, she helped him, suddenly feeling hot tears welling up behind her eyes. This was _not_ how she had planned telling Phil they had a son. She couldn't even imagine what he must be feeling right now. William, now satisfied with his appearance, toddled over to Phil and just looked at him. Phil looked back, a slightly shocked expression on his face. Keely muffled a sob behind her hand. There was no denying it; even a random person on the street could tell William and Phil were related. After a few moments, William waddled into the waiting arms of his grandmother.

"I'll take him for right now, honey," Keely's mother said, lifting the toddler up and discreetly exiting into her bedroom. Keely heard the _click_ of her mother's bedroom door, and felt a lump grow in her throat as silence filled the room.

They stood at a standstill for a minute, before Keely looked away at the rest of the room, and started to pick up odds and ends that had accumulated on her son's floor during the course of the day. The silence had become deafening, neither knowing quite exactly what to say. She picked up William's much-loved teddy bear off the floor, placing it in the crib, leaning over the wooden edge when she was done and staring intently at the sheets.

"Is he...?" Phil asked after a moment, and Keely turned to look at him. He didn't need to add the _mine_ to the end of the question for her to know what he was asking.

"Yes," she said as she nodded. She wiped a tear from her eye, sinking down into the rocking chair next to the crib.

"How old is he?" was the next question.

"He turned two last month," she answered. She was on pins-and-needles, wondering what his reaction would be. While she was sure he had wanted children when they got married, she assumed by "someday", it didn't mean "tomorrow". While she thought he may have looked it up on the Giggle, she saw now that he hadn't. Phil came into the room, running his hand along the dresser and the edge of the crib rail wistfully.

"What's his name?" Phil asked, and she could see now tears shining in his eyes.

"William," she replied, rocking the chair with her heels. He turned his head towards her, the tears streaming freely down his face.

"They didn't even tell me," he said, his chin quivering. She stood up and took him in her arms, and he gratefully hugged her to him, his face buried in her neck.

"I've lost so much time," he said, his voice muffled slightly. She took in the relaxingly familiar scent of his aftershave, running her fingers through his hair. "And they didn't even tell me."

"Who didn't tell you?" she asked, just happy to be back in his arms again.

"The bastards who sent me back," he said, pulling back and leaning his forehead against hers. "They told me I was going back, two years after I was arrested. They told me something had happened in the time line, and it was because I wasn't where I was supposed to be. They said I would find you right where I usually would." Anger suddenly flashed in his eyes. "But they neglected to mention the fact that I had a son."

"I wish I could have told you," she said, looking down at their now entwined hands. "I had no idea whether or not you knew—" Her ramblings were cut short as she suddenly found his lips on hers.

"Mommy?" came a little, lisping voice from the doorway. Phil and Keely broke apart as though they'd just been caught by their parents. William was peeking his head around the corner, his little fingers grasping the doorframe right under his chin. A slightly frightened look passed over the little boy's face, though his brown eyes were wide with excitement. He crept into the room, looking at Phil with a wary expression, finally latching onto his mother's leg. William had always been the type to be long to warm up to strangers. He was more the quiet observer of his day care group. He liked to examine situations, not actually be in them. He tugged on his mother's pant leg, a sign he wished to be picked up. Keely did so, soon feeling a small face snuggle into the crook of her neck. Phil had a pained look on his face, and she was sure he was thinking of all the wasted time. Keely reached up with her spare hand to stroke her son's soft hair. William stuck his thumb in his mouth and regarded his father with guarded curiosity. Keely wasn't sure he knew exactly who the man in front of him was. Sure, she'd shown her son pictures of his father, and told him stories of their escapades that never failed to put him to sleep. But a baby's memory isn't that great, and so it was doubtful William remembered the images. He looked up at his mother and then back to Phil.

"Da?" came the timid one-syllable word, slightly garbled as the little boy tried to speak around his thumb. Keely nodded to her son, choking down a happy sob, and William looked as though he was considering this piece of information carefully. He wiggled to get down, and his mother complied. He toddled in Phil's direction, the latter squatting down to his level. William gleefully walked right into his arms. The little boy giggled as Phil scooped him up into his embrace, and Phil thought his heart would melt right there. He hugged William tight, causing the little boy to wiggle around, a bit uncomfortable with the crunching feeling of his ribs being squished. Phil released his son a bit, and William rested his head on Phil's shoulder, his thumb making its way slowly back up towards his mouth. Keely watched he little boy's eye's droop until he was nearly asleep, completely comfortable with this man he had known only five minutes. All three of them remained like that for a few minutes, as if frozen in time, before Phil carefully walked over to the crib and lay his son in it, wordlessly wrestling a small bit of his shirt from the tiny fist. He took a blanket that was thrown carelessly over the edge of the crib bars and put it over him, barely able to contain his tears as he tucked it around the toddler. William instinctively reached out and wrapped an arm around the neck of his teddy bear, bringing it close to him as to be able to hug it and suck his thumb at the same time.

"Night," he said softly, around the thumb, his brown eyes finally closing and his breathing becoming deeper and more even. Phil said nothing, but stood leaning over the crib rail, staring at the sleeping baby.

"He's beautiful," were the only words that Phil managed to blurt out in a coherent manner. Phil had asked if he was the father of the child lying in the crib, but realized now that the question was one that didn't need to be asked. If Phil had held up a picture of himself as a toddler to William, it would have been hard to tell the two apart. He felt himself at a loss for words, and even if words had managed to somehow string themselves into sentences in his mind, he much preferred the silence. He fiddled with his fingers and wondered if Keely felt _it_ too.

Phil was by no means naive in his approach to returning to the present. He'd only been overcome with a gripping fear upon standing on her doorstep that she could have moved on. A person could only hold on so long. And, he realized, his leaving had been an ending. He'd known there was going to be space between them, as there always is between people who haven't seen each other for a long period of time. He just hadn't known it could be _felt._ Phil felt it like a brick wall between them, expanding and wrapping itself around the room like a large boa constrictor, flicking it's tongue and taunting them. Time. Time was taunting them, as it had done before. Only this time, the wound cut to the quick. They'd both spent three years holding on. The question was, could they hold on any more, now that they were reunited?

"Maybe we should talk downstairs," Keely suggested, not really looking him in the eye. Even normal conversation seemed different. The adrenaline rush at seeing each other again had worn off, and in it's wake had left unease. Phil couldn't recall one time in their entire relationship where there had been this much awkwardness. He nodded to her, and watched with the sadness of a man watching his life play before his eyes as she turned off the overhead light, bent to flick on the small racecar-shaped nightlight, and leaned over the edge of the crib to place a kiss on William's forehead. The baby stirred slightly in his sleep, before rolling over, his legs tangled in the blankets, still clutching the teddy bear with his thumb in his mouth. She ran a hand through his hair, smiling, before turning and ushering Phil out of the room. She gave the crib one last glance before closing the door behind her as quietly as she could. She was relieved when she didn't hear a little voice mutter anything intelligible, but rather a small snore.

"Let's go talk in the living room," she said. On the one hand, it was something to say, and it also assured her and Phil some privacy. Her mother did not dare tread in the living room after everyone else went to bed—too many a night she'd uttered a few succinct curses under her breath after stepping on one of William's toys that had the uncanny knack of hopping out of their toy basket after being placed in it at the end of the evening. In fact, her mother rarely tread _anywhere_ at night in the house, ever since Owen had given William a set of toy trucks for his second birthday. A few slips with those had kept her safely in her bed, where only a few of William's toys tended to migrate.

Phil nodded again, and moved to the side of the hallway to let Keely by. She padded down the carpeted stairs with Phil right behind. Her emotions were a whirlpool of odd thoughts as she flopped down on the couch. If her emotions were represented in colors, either the canvas would be tie-dye, or else the colors would have mixed to make the color of vomit. Either way, it wasn't pleasant, and she was starting to feel a little light-headed from tonight's events. She sat down on the couch. Phil chose to stand, shoving his hands in the pockets of his very twenty-first century jeans, the very way William often did when he decided to wait patiently for his mother rather than throw a temper tantrum. Which wasn't often. Phil blew a stream of air towards his forehead, lifting his bangs slightly away from his face for a moment before falling right back where they were.

"How?" her question cut through the thick silence with the precision of a chef's knife, her hands folded tightly on her lap. "How did you manage to come back?"

"Well," Phil took a deep breath, readying himself for a long explanation. "Apparently they screwed up the timeline."

"What?"

"Disappearances from time travel are fairly common. Except usually it's only two or three. When my family returned to the future, hundreds of people started disappearing. They managed to trace it back to me and you, and pretty much ordered me out of the twenty-second century before I triggered a chain reaction that would blow up the world,"

"What do you mean they traced it back to you and me?"

"I don't know how they did it. Apparently in the original, non-screwed up timeline, you and I have children. More than William," he corrected himself. He was still getting used to the fact that he—no, he corrected himself again, _they_ had a child. "And it was the relatives of _those_ kids that were disappearing."

"How does that blow up the world?"

"If the timeline is too corrupted, the wormhole that allows time travel collapses in on itself, creating a huge explosion, pretty much bringing on the next apocalypse,"

"Oh," Keely really didn't know what to say. Again, she was caught in that no-one-asks-about-what-to-say-in-these-places situation. She just sat there, gaping like a fish out of water, unsure of where to go next. She fiddled with the ring on her necklace. She'd yet to take it off, instead using it as a device at which to aim all of her nervous energy. She'd angered more professors during exams by sliding it across the chain, making the angry _screech, screech_ sound than she cared to count.

"So, have you told anyone?" he gestured to the ring, as he pulled out his own from under his shirt.

"Only my mom," she said. "Before William was born. She was kind of upset that I was being very secretive. So, I told her. You?"

"My mom found out by accident. The necklace came off when she went to throw an old shirt of mine in the hamper. The ring had gotten caught inside. She went to hand it back to me when she realized what it was," he said. "And my dad found out when someone at the time travel board was explaining it all to me. And then, by wonderful powers of eavesdropping, Pim knows too."

"I haven't really told anybody anything," she admitted sheepishly. "No ones knows you're William's father. Well, except for Via. But that girl has powers of intuition that makes me wonder sometimes if she's psychic."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"I don't know," she said, looking away from him suddenly and fiddling with a loose thread on the cushion of the couch. "I guess because it would have opened people up to ask so many questions. _Who's the father? Why isn't he here?_ Most people just assume I'm some girl who made a bad decision. Plus, in this town? Any man who leaves his wife pregnant and alone is pretty much asking for a death wish."

"You didn't even know I was coming back,"

"No. But I always hoped that one day you might," she quit playing with the piece of string and looked at him. Phil had turned away from her to look at the wooden armoire that held the television set, and the bookcases around it, filled with pictures of William. Her mother was big on documenting William's babyhood, probably, she figured, as penance for being so uninvolved in her daughter's childhood. He picked up a framed picture of William and Keely at the baby's first birthday party. It happened to be one of her favorites, with William covered from head to toe in cake, wearing a blue pointy party hat and grinning wide for the camera. Phil gave a sigh and set it back down.

"If I had known..." he trailed off before running a hand over his face. He looked so much older to her than he had three years ago. "Keel, you have to know, if I had any idea you were pregnant, I never would have left. I shouldn't have left in the first place. Not that I wanted to."

"It happened the night before you left," she said. "I didn't even know until a few weeks later. There was no way you could have known."

"God, I have the power of _time travel,_ and I missed two years of my son's life," angry tears sprang to his eyes again, and he impatiently wiped them away, only to do it again. He felt useless—inadequate. He felt helpless, and there wasn't anything he could do about it. "Dammit!" It was the first time she'd really heard him swear, and the naked emotion she saw in his eyes tore her heart to pieces. She wanted to make it better, but didn't know how.

"And now," he said pitifully, voicing his true concerns for the first time. "I've ruined everything. Everything."

"What?" she was confused. She stood up from the couch and walked over to where he was. She put a hand on his shoulder. "What do you mean, you've ruined everything?"

"I _left_, Keely," he said. "I just up and left. For three years, I was gone. I missed out on everything. Being married to you. Saying our vows in front of our family and friends. The birth of our son. And now...we're not even us anymore. I've never felt awkward with you, Keels. Never. Not in all of our friendship, or dating. But upstairs...that was awkward." He looked away at the pictures again. "I still love you. I want a family with you. I just want to know if you still want those things...and if you do, is it with me?" He was drowning himself in misery, she could see, and she scrambled as fast as she could to throw him a life preserver. She put a hand on the side of his face and forced him to look at her. She took the ring from where it lay on it's chain, resting on top of the knit fabric of her shirt. She held it up to show him.

"I wear this ring every day," she said, tears forming in her own eyes. "Every day. Do you think if I didn't love you, I'd still be wearing it? I never stopped, Phil. Never. I was so..._glad_ when William was born. He is the physical proof of our love for each other, and every bit of you I see in him makes me love you more. I don't care how you made it back, or when you made it back. The point _is, _you're back. You didn't ruin everything. Ruining everything would be going back a decade or so and never coming to Pickford at all. Because then I'd be walking around with only half my heart. I'd have this empty feeling and not know why." A tear ran down the side of her cheek, and he wiped it away with the pad of his thumb.

"And for three years, I've been walking around with only half my heart," she sniffed a little. "But at least I've known why. And you're here, in my living room, and for the first time in three years, I've been completely happy. I love you, and William does too. He's seen your picture around, and loves to sit on my lap while I tell him stories about high school. He thinks you're the coolest thing since sliced bread." She went to move away for a moment to grab a tissue, but it had been three years since she'd been in his arms, and he wasn't about to let go that fast. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist, bringing her close to him. He showered her face with soft kisses before capturing her lips with his. Three years of separation, and the wall of awkwardness felt when he first arrived were blown to pieces with that simple action, and peace fell over the Teslow household. Phil broke away with a smile.

"Here," he said, carefully unclasping the necklace from her neck and removing the ring. He gently took her left hand in his and slid it onto her ring finger. "Wear it here now." He did the same with his own, and she gave a smile and wrapped her arms around his chest, hearing the familiar thud of a heartbeat she could never get tired of.

**A/N: So, Phil's back. After all the filler chapters, I think I'd put it off long enough. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. And for those of you who think just because Phil is back that this story is nearing its end...you're in for a surprise. This story is just beginning. Keep reading to find out!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I only own William and the plot. **

**A/N: Oh my. I cannot believe it's been so long since I've updated! I feel like the worst fanfic writer ever. Here is an update, for those of you who are waiting for it!**

"Mommy!" a little voice reached Phil's ears early the next morning. "Mommy! I wan' out!" Phil blearily rubbed his eyes with one hand, then looking at his watch, finding that it was six in the morning. He recognized the voice as Williams. Then again, who else in the house would be calling out 'mommy' at six in the morning? He glanced to his right, where said woman lay asleep, curled up next to him on the couch they'd fallen asleep on. If the bags under her eyes were any indication, it didn't seem as though she'd gotten much sleep lately. He opted not to wake her up.

He carefully disentangled himself from the blanket that lay over both of them, careful not to wake up Keely, before padding up the stairs. Following the increasingly plaintive cries from the little boy, Phil finally managed to find his way back to the nursery. William was standing up, hanging over the edge of the wooden crib, one hand grasping the rail with a death grip, while standing on his teddy bear and swinging his leg over the rail, a few feet down from his hand. A shocked look crossed his face when Phil walked in. He froze in his actions, before hastily letting go of the crib rail and falling with a _plop_ onto his diapered bottom.

"Da!" he shrieked after a moment. He stood back up, and reached out his arms to be lifted out of his wooden confines.

"Early riser, huh?" Phil asked, picking up the toddler and tousling his hair. William gave a toothy grin, revealing several spots where baby teeth had not come down all the way just yet, as if to say _Six isn't early, what are you talking about?!_ The little boy wiggled to get down, nearly flipping himself over backwards in order to do so. Phil quickly released him, and watched the little boy dash down the hallway. He plopped down on his bottom on the top stair, before shuffling down them in a sitting position. Phil followed close behind, not sure if William _could_ actually climb stairs by himself just yet.

William popped up from the bottom stair energetically, before scrambling in socked feet over to where his mother sat, still asleep, on the couch. Phil hurried over and caught him in mid-air, as he went to pounce on his mother. William let out a cry of indignation, kicking his feet back and forth as his father hugged him to him.

"Let's let Mommy sleep a little longer, okay?" he asked the toddler, still finding the word _Mommy_ a little foreign in his mouth, especially connected to Keely. It was even harder to connect the word _Daddy_ with himself, even if the evidence was trying extremely hard to break away from his grasp as he spoke.

"No!" William shrieked as Phil quickly carried him into the kitchen, out of earshot of Keely. William was dangerously close to having a temper tantrum, even Phil could tell that. Spying a high chair sitting in the corner, Phil dragged it over to the small island in the middle of the kitchen. Swiftly, he deposited the toddler into it, and spread a layer of Cheerios on the tray from the container on the counter. William's fussing stopped immediately as he reached for a piece of cereal, painstakingly picking up one piece at a time and carefully bringing it up to his mouth.

"Better?" Phil was thankful for his reflexes. All that time playing laser squash had really helped, if only for keeping a two-year-old quiet. William held out a Cheerio to him in response.

"Cheerwio?" he asked, with that adorable lisp he'd acquired as he began to talk. While his pediatrician was concerned, most people just found it endearing, and Keely had learned to hang onto it as much as she could, as he was rapidly growing out of it and his precious baby clothes.

"Thanks," Phil smiled, took the cereal and popped it into his mouth. "Yum." William giggled, showing quite a few teeth while he was at it. He grabbed a spoon that lay forgotten on the counter a few inches away from him and attempted to scoop the Cheerios into his mouth, with maybe twenty percent accuracy. He pushed his father away as he tried to help, content to let over half the cereal go crashing back down onto the tray. Phil was convinced he did it because he liked to hear the cereal plink down onto the plastic high-chair tray. In the end, William got bored with the spoon and flung it away onto the floor, lifting his hands to try and dislodge several pieces of cereal that had gotten stuck to his hair.

"You're nuts," Phil laughed, picking a few Cheerios off of William's head. "You're supposed to eat the cereal, not wear it."

"Cheerwios?"

"Yes, you're supposed to eat the Cheerios," Phil ruffled the toddler's hair. William grinned from ear to ear before turning towards the door and crying out, "Mommy!"

"Good morning, William," Keely walked over from where she stood leaning against the doorframe and placing a kiss on William's forehead.

"Mommy, Cheerwio?" he extended one of the few that remained on his tray to her.

"No, thank you," Keely smiled and sat down next to Phil, giving him a wide smile. "Good morning."

"Good morning to you too," he said, pulling her onto his lap and giving her a kiss. William giggled from his high chair. Keely rolled her eyes and playfully flicked a Cheerio at him. William grabbed a handful to throw back at her, but before he could, Keely had scooped him up out of his chair.

"Okay, when the tossing of cereal starts, that means breakfast is over," she laughed, tickling William's stomach. William gave her an adorable ear-to-ear grin, and even Phil could see he was trying to get on her good side. "What do you say we go get some day clothes on, buddy?" He nodded.

"Bye!" he said to Phil, and gave a movie-actress style kiss "Mwah!"

"Hey, he's not going anywhere," Keely laughed, tousling his hair and walking up the stairs.

Phil, unsure of what to do with himself, cleared the leftover Cheerios and cereal dust off the high chair tray and surrounding floor space. When he was done, he rinsed off the sponge he'd been using and returned it to the edge of the sink. Turning around, he found that he was not alone in the kitchen...Keely's mother had apparently been awoken by the ruckus and had made her way down the stairs. And now, there she stood, looking quite formidable in her bathrobe. Her hair stood up wildly, and the curlers which had been tightly placed last night were now loose, making her look even more terrifying.

"Good morning," he said, trying to smile. He hadn't though about her mother's reaction to his return.

"Good morning, Phil," she replied, with an edge of malice in her voice. She walked over to the coffee maker and grabbed the pot, pouring water into it from the sink. Phil watched her make coffee in silence, not knowing what the right thing to say was. _I'm sorry I abandoned your daughter, but it was all the government's fault I was gone?_ Or _I'm from the future and was sent back to realign the timeline?_ He could just imagine her phoning the psych ward at Pickford Memorial Hospital and requesting an emergency team of psychiatrists. He fiddled with the ring on his finger, turning it around and around. When she was finished, she flicked the switch on the side, and then turned to acknowledge him.

"I'm not going to pretend to be overjoyed that you're back," she said, cutting through the silence like a knife. "I'm not as accepting as my daughter is, and you've had her wrapped around your finger since she met you."

"I—"

"No, you're going to sit there and listen. You just _left_ her. Alone! And with a baby! You're lucky I don't flay you alive for that. And then to find out you were married! That you eloped! Phil, I had come to like you as Keely's boyfriend, but now..." She shook her head and pursed her lips.

"William needs a father. He's been relying on that Owen person since he was a baby, and let me tell you, he's not at all the right person for the job. If you hurt her again, I will make sure you're ripped apart. In fact, I'll do it myself. I love the two of them more than life itself, and I can't bear for Keely to go through any more sadness. Got it?" she walked up to him and poked him the chest with a manicured nail to punctuate her last statement. "And I'm not going to ask you any questions about where you've been; you'd probably lie to me like Keely's been doing for the past three years. Just remember what I said." She gave him a withering look before stalking back over to the coffee maker. Phil blinked a few times in amazement, then snuck out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

"Okay, let's try again," he heard Keely's voice from down the hall. "A, B, C, D..."

"A, B, C, D..." William sang back to her in his little toddler voice. He got all the way up to K, and Phil couldn't help but smile as he heard William run the letters L, M, N, O, and P together as one word. He finally gave up at T, not able to remember what the other letters were, and instead throwing in nonsense letters in as substitutes. Phil heard Keely laugh before starting the song over again, trying to get him to join in.

"Hey, we're almost ready," she said, seeing Phil standing the doorway. William was sitting on the changing table, trying to figure out how to work the twist top on the bottle of baby powder. Keely took it from him and fastened the hooks on the denim overalls he was wearing.

"I don't think your mom likes me very much," Phil laughed, walking in to keep William occupied while his mother attempted to put sneakers on his wriggling feet.

"Yeah, I had a feeling she'd corner you in the kitchen," Keely said, adding a second knot to William's laces and starting in the second shoe. "She's just so protective of us. Especially after the scare I had with William, she—"

"What scare with William?"

"Placental abruption. The placenta separates from the wall of the uterus and bleeds from the place it used to be attached. Usually that blood is expelled out of the woman's body. But sometimes, it gets caught behind the placenta and pools there," she said, finishing her tying and setting William on the floor. He ran off to play with some blocks he'd dumped on the floor. Keely leaned against the changing table to explain the rest. "William being my first, I didn't know the warning signs. About two months before he was supposed to be born, my body went into shock and started to hemorrhage. The doctor said I'd almost died. William, too." She looked fondly towards her son, who smiled and waved a block at her. "Anyway, ever since then, Mom's been really protective of us. I guess that really opened her eyes."

"Wow," Phil was taken aback. He'd never known there were risks involved with pregnancy. Then again, he didn't have much experience in that area. He grabbed her hand and tugged her into his arms. What would he have done if she'd died? William, too? Not to mention that he would have had no idea, about the baby, or their deaths. Research about persons of the past was highly classified information in the future.

"Da!" Phil felt a little tug on his jeans, and looked down to find William lifting his hands to him. "Up!"

"Alright," he laughed, and swung the toddler up to rest on his hip. "Impatient little thing, aren't you?" He was surprised the boy had taken to him so quickly.

"He's always been that way," Keely smiled, tickling William under the chin. "His doctor says it's just a phase, but if it's been going on since the day he was born, does it really count as a phase?"

"Hmm...I _wonder_ where he gets it from?" Phil pretended to think really hard, making such a hilarious face that William burst into hysterical laughter.

"Funny," Keely rolled her eyes. It seemed that three years hadn't changed his sense of humor much. Though, it had changed his physique, and she wasn't too jaded to notice. "What do you say we go to the park? I told William yesterday we'd go; he loves the tunnels, and this is supposed to be the last clear day of the week. They predict rain until mid-week."

"Sounds good to me," Phil said, tossing the toddler up in the air, earning him a you're-going-to-kill him squeak from Keely and laughter from William.

Half-an-hour later, after three checks of the diaper bag, two diaper checks and one temper tantrum, the newly reunited family found themselves at the park. William was straining at the restraints of his stroller so much that Phil was sure they were going to snap any minute, or that the toddler would cut himself in two. He was on the brink of another temper tantrum as Keely undid the clasp and lifted him out. He wriggled to get down, and as soon as he was placed on his feet, he zoomed off in the direction of the sandbox.

"Remember, William, the sand goes in the sandbox, not in our mouths!" Keely called after him. William took no notice of her, scrambling over the wooden edge of the box, nearly knocking his little red baseball cap his mother had insisted on having him wear clear off his head. However, Phil did notice that not a grain of sand entered his mouth as he happily built an imaginary world out of sand. He and Keely made their way over to the swings, happy to bypass the middle-aged parents who tended to sit on the benches near the jungle gym, exclaiming how smart little Johnny was, or how Emma had just learned to brush her teeth...all by herself!

"Remember when we used to come here?" Phil asked, taking hold of the chains and kicking the ground slightly to get the swing moving. Keely smiled, keeping one eye on William as she answered.

"Of course. However, I do believe it was a bit darker when we used to meet here,"

"And there weren't many kids around,"

"Unless you count the drug dealers over in the far corner,"

"Oh, yes, those," Phil and Keely lapsed into silence, this one quite a bit more comfortable than the one the previous night. William waved to them from his place in the sandbox, letting go a huge handful of sand to fall all over him.

"So," Phil said after a moment. "What's William like?"

"Hmmm?"

"Well, I mean, he's two...he's got to have some personality,"

"Yeah, he's had a personality since the day he was born," Keely said, a bit sarcastically as she remembered William's stubborn streak. Phil chuckled. "Well, he's incredibly stubborn, and impatient, which you've probably already gathered. But he's also incredibly sweet, though he has a bad temper. He doesn't talk that much, though when he does it's straight to the point. Right now, he loves trucks and dinosaurs. Hence why we've got a million toy trucks lying around the house."

"I noticed that,"

"I'm convinced he gets out of his crib in the middle of the night and plays with them; they tend to migrate around the house after they've been put away,"

"Well, he seems pretty adept at getting out of his crib; he was halfway out of the thing when I walked in this morning,"

"I don't think he's ever really climbed out of it...at least, I hope not," Keely's face went a little white, and Phil could tell she was concocting all sorts of what-if situations, if perchance William ever did manage to climb out of his crib. Phil waved a hand in front of her face. She snapped out of it and looked at him.

"I wonder what Owen and Via will say when they see you,"

"I hope it's nothing like your mother's reaction,"

"It won't be. They're much more understanding. At least, Via is. Owen's kind of proclaimed himself father figure to William. Not sure how he'll take being out of a job,"

"Are they together now?"

"Not yet. But so very close,"

"Of course," they lapsed into yet another comfortable silence. This was part of their relationship that Phil had missed the most; being able to be together without the need to be talking or touching. Yet the two were as close as any human beings could be. William grinned widely from the tunnels, where he had gone after tiring of the sandbox, and gave a wave. His parents waved back.

Without warning, the wind picked up a little bit, causing Keely to pull her sweater tighter around her. The sky looked harmless, and strong winds this time of year were a bit out of the ordinary, but weather was unpredictable. She contemplated calling William in, but seeing how he was having so much fun crawling through the twisting green tunnels set low to the ground, she decided against it. The weather was going to turn cold soon; he needed all the outside time he could get. Plus, it might tire him out. The wind picked up another notch.

"Keel..." Phil's voice trailed off, sounding quite worried. She looked in the direction he was, and saw the tell-tale blue vortex of a time-traveler form behind the bathrooms. A young man stumbled out, anxiously looking around the park. His eyes settled on Phil and Keely, and he started to clumsily make his way over to them. Keely could see he was clutching his side, and grimacing as though he were in pain.

"What the...?" Phil muttered, standing up and looking at the man with a mixture of curiosity and fear. He glanced over to where William was, completely unaware of the situation. The young man finally made it to the swings, leaning heavily on one of the metal support posts, breathing heavily.

Phil and Keely hesitatingly made their way over to him. While they didn't at all trust him, if he was hurt, it would be just as well to get him to a hospital. The man looked up at them, letting out a hiss of pain. His dark brown hair waved in the breeze, longer pieces on the side covering his eyes. His brown eyes had the haze of restlessness, and his skin was pale and looked clammy. His clothes were tattered; the gray sweatshirt he wore was torn to shreds, along with his jeans. His jacket was covered in mud and other stains; Phil didn't even want to know. The man removed his hand from his side to reveal a deep gash in his abdomen, which was bleeding profusely now that the pressure had been relieved and left a deep red coating on his hand. He looked up at them, his eyes imploring them.

"Mom..." he rasped out, taking a step towards them. He moved his feet as though they were made of lead. "Dad..." He let out another hiss of pain and crumpled to the ground, his unconscious face lined deep with pain and worry.

**So, what did you think? Who is this guy? Why is he here? Important questions! And all shall be answered, but not in **_**Tonight.**_** As it is getting rather lengthy, and the original premise of the story has been fulfilled, this part of the saga will be in a sequel, aptly called **_**Tomorrow.**_** And I promise that will be up far faster than this update was. **


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